Don't Jump!
by Cherry Champagne
Summary: Practice makes perfect. Creek!


At four thirty-nine, Craig received a text from Tweek, alerting him on his impending suicide.

At five fifty-three, Craig shuffled into Tweek's back yard, humming badly with his bottom lip out.

Tweek was lying with his belly subdivided by the vertex of the shed roof, legs spread on either side as if he were mounting the shingles and hands folded under his chin to keep him from damaging the sensitive area on the rough terrain. "Ergh--what took you so long?" He whimpered.

"I just wanted to make a snack real quick."

"It's been over an—augh--hour."

"I made peanut butter cookies."

"Oh."

"I brought some." He shook the plastic baggy of cookies in his right hand, cheesy grin spread wide to further entice his friend down from the ledge of pretend death and back inside.

"No. I don't want your cookies. I want to die!" He somehow found this statement adequately complimented by tightening his all-over grip on the roof, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

"You intend to die by falling from the roof of your shed? …I mean, did you even need that step ladder?" One eyebrow curved in incredulity, he gestured to the step ladder around the other side of the stumpy structure. "Well, I guess you're not very good at pull-ups, anyway…"

Tweek's face drained of its passion, revealing a nonplussed pout. "Uh. Well, not really—this is kind of my practice suicide. I'm working my way up to it gradually."

"Oh. How's it working out so far?"

"Um. Are you sure falling off my shed won't kill me? From down there, I thought it wouldn't, but now that I'm up here it seems really, really high—"

"If this is just a practice, why'd you call me?"

Tweek bit his lip, pulling his torso up slightly from where it had been gripped tightly for the previous hour. "Well…I thought you might…ergh…wanna practice talking me out of it."

"Practice talking you out of your practice suicide?"

"No, practice talking me out of my real suicide by talking me out of my practice one."

"On, right, sorry. Well I can't really get too into it when I could honk your nose, can I? Why don't you get up on your house roof? Then I can do it realistically, I swear."

"NO! Uh—I mean—well, what if I fall and die?"

"…Without having properly practiced?"

"Yeah!"

"Mm. Good point. Okay, just let me get into character." Craig breathed deeply, closing his eyes, and sat down cross-legged in the grass to give Tweek's elevation over him a slight boost. "Okay, my best friend is about to kill himself by jumping off a six-foot shed."

"Pretend it's a fifty foot skyscraper."

"Wait, where are you going to find a fifty footy skyscraper in South Park? I am not driving you all the way to Denver just to talk you down off the edge of a roof. We can just do that here and save gas money."

"I'm gonna jump!" He said this while still positioned horizontally, hugging the roof as if the lawn were lava.

"Wait! No! There's so much to live for!" Craig did his best "oh no!" face, hands up and open in shock.

"Like what?"

"Like…puppies."

"Puppies bite." He inched closer to the front of the shed, rolling his body like a caterpillar.

"Okayokay—how about, uh, long walks on the beach. Video games. Someday accomplishing something that effects the world more than having to clean up a smear of you off the asphalt. These fucking cookies."

Tweek was warily rising to his feet—hands still planted on the shingles, but with his knees bent, lifting his butt and head upward, shaking profusely. "Augh! Goodbye, cruel world!" Vibrating to an almost suggestive point, he rigidly found his way into a vertical position, sneakers angled against the roof, and stepped toward the edge.

"Tweek! No!"

And with that, he was pretend gone.

He pulled himself off the ground and stared down at the grass stains on his knees with a dissatisfied look.

"You're really gonna say that before you jump?" Craig asked, half his face scrunched up.

"Well…that's why I'm practicing."

"Mm. Still needs some work, then."

"…So are those cookies really any good?"

--

AN: IDK MY BFF JILL???


End file.
